


Mistletoe

by Mix Stitch (Synph)



Series: Adventures in Polyamory [6]
Category: DCU - Comicverse
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Holidays, M/M, Mistletoe
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-16
Updated: 2012-10-16
Packaged: 2017-11-16 11:22:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 622
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/538898
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Synph/pseuds/Mix%20Stitch
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dick gets kissed underneath the mistletoe on his first Christmas with the Kents.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Mistletoe

Lois and Clark ambush Dick underneath the sprig of mistletoe that Dick himself had hung when they were doing the decorating for the holidays.

Dick hardly gets any warning before his lovers are on him. One minute, Dick is trying to remember if he had used a lead-lined box to hold one of the most intimate and important gifts that he had purchased for Clark and in the next—

In the next moment, Dick finds himself held in the embrace of Clark’s strong arms as a warm pair of lips drops a light kiss against the skin just behind his left air. Dick can feel the otherworldly warmth of Clark’s broad chest against the back of his body and the press of Clark’s lips to his skin causes him to shudder. He tilts his head to the side and then sighs as he feels Lois’s callused fingers stroke over the opposite side of his face.

“You smell like ginger snaps,” Lois says as she leans in close until her mouth is brushing Dick’s parted lips. She kisses Dick quickly, just a little sweet thing that leaves Dick panting softly and straining against the strong brace of Clark’s arms where they are settled around his waist, and then steps backwards on nimble feet. “Have you been in Ma’s cookies again?”

Dick laughs and makes to extract himself from Clark’s hold as the older man nuzzles the nape of his neck and one large hand starts to slide underneath the front of his sweatshirt. “I can’t help myself,” he says, still laughing even though the path of Clark’s hand has his voice dipping into a lower register. “They’re just so good.”

“They’re for Santa,” Clark says seriously, starting to scratch an abstract pattern into the scarred skin of Dick’s stomach. “Eat something else if you’re hungry.” He taps Dick’s stomach with two fingers and then slides his fingers down past the waistband of Dick’s sweatpants, stroking his skin in a tease that has Dick panting softly into the air as Lois watches him with hunger darkening her eyes.

“Don’t give him any ideas,” Lois says with a roll of her eyes. She turns her face up at Dick and kisses him deeply, licking her way into Dick’s mouth as she cups the side of his face with one hand. Lois steps closer until her stomach is brushing Clark’s arms, but instead of getting awkward, Clark merely opens his arms so that he’s holding them both.

Dick moans when Lois reaches around and squeezes his ass with just the slightest sharp pressure from her long nails. Dick leans into the kiss, moving eagerly into heat and softness of Lois’s body as Clark continues to tease him with the slow and careful exploration of his fingers.

When Lois pulls away and breaks the kiss, Dick makes a soft noise of want. When he reaches for her, Clark is there to take hold of his wrists and squeeze them gently.

“Not now,” Clark murmurs into Dick’s ear. “Not here.” He presses a kiss to the back of Dick’s ear and then turns him around until they’re facing each other and it’s Lois’ turn to press herself to Dick’s back. “I still owe you a kiss and our bed isn’t that far away.”

Dick still gets a little thrill at hearing it phrased that way: “Our bed.” He glances up at the little sprig of mistletoe hanging from the top of the doorframe and then looks at Clark’s smiling mouth. “You’ve kissed me plenty,” Dick says with a smile on his face. “You just want to get me in bed.”

Lois starts to pet the subtle jut of Dick’s hipbones with her fingertips. “Can you blame him, flyboy?”


End file.
